Capping Insanity

You know when you’re waiting on an answer from someone? Does it drive you as in–fucking–sane as it drives me or am I just the most impatient girl in the world (a highly likely possibility)? Well, I’m waiting. I’ve been waiting for a long time; and, recently, I had rekindled hope that my answer was coming at last. Thankfully, today, my friend killed that hope with some harsh words, the same ones I was already thinking myself. I knew she would. I think that was the underlying reason why I finally chose to go to her. Even though I had predicted what she would say, it was her tone – not the words I had already been telling myself too – that got to me. Her tone made me feel like I’ve been outplayed despite my understanding of the game. Her tone made me feel like I’ve been fooled despite my insight into the other player. Her tone made me feel like fucking shit.

I loved that tone.

I needed it to feel like crap, and I needed to feel like crap to mentally breathe. My anxiousness to receive my answer has been consuming me. Feeling momentary worthlessness by consequence of my friend’s voice convinced me to relax. It reminded me of the happiness tip I posted two days ago: Associate with people that make you feel good, and dissociate from those that do not. I acknowledged (again) that I’m waiting on an answer from someone who does not make me feel good, making this person not worth the exhaustion. No matter how much I focus on wanting my answer, it is not coming until the person who holds it decides to give it to me. There is nothing I can do on my end to expedite someone else’s intentions. It’s effing annoying, but I have no choice but to wait until either I get it or no longer care about it.

However, I can choose to stop getting so goddamn worked up about it in the meantime. I can stop wishing my time away in hope that I’ll reach my answer faster. I can stop clenching onto someone else’s words in anticipation that the corresponding actions will soon follow. I’m tired of living inside my own anxiety while physically present amongst other people, and I’m tired of driving other people into craziness with me by never shutting the fuck up about it. If or when my answer comes, it comes. While I’m waiting for it or waiting for my desire for it to go away (because I’m not even going to pretend it is suddenly undesired), I’m going to try my best not to stress about it. Stress or no stress, I have no control over another person’s words, actions, or feelings. As frustrating as that is for a girl who likes to take matters into her own hands, it is also relieving. It means that my only job within this circumstance is to do nothing at all, because – and drill this into your fucking head, Maria! – there is nothing I can do to change what someone else ultimately does. There is a time for action and there is a time for inaction. It is not my move.

Happiness Tip: Accept that you cannot control what other people do, but you can put a cap on your responsive insanity.